How a Typing Teacher Inspired My Life Transformation

I know that I’ve talked about my High School typing teacher in at least a few of my blogs. I’ll also tell you that she’s in my book that I’m currently working on right now. The reason for this, she was instrumental in helping me see that it was possible to turn my life around. I felt as though she could see through me at times and wanted desperately to confess all of my sins to her. (Spoiler alert-I never did). Let me explain this further.

When I decided to sign up for typing class in High School, I never had any desire to become some kind of great typist, nor did I really care what the outcome would be from the class. It was a time filler for me to just get by. At that point in my life, I was deeply embedded in the underworld and had far greater things to be worrying about than my classes. I was dealing with people who were much harsher about failure, so I adjusted my attitude accordingly. I started in the class and dropped myself directly in the very back seat. It was close to the door which gave me the ability to slide out quickly. When I began the class, I never gave a second thought as to what kind of teacher I would be facing, or what she might think of me. This was just where I was mentally at the time.

Ms. Joan Osborn stepped into the room and you could hear her heels clicking on the old wooden floor as she walked. She walked with purpose and had a way about her. Fearless and confident, some might see her as intimidating. To me, she was just another teacher in a long line of teachers that I’d run into over the years growing up. She put her name on the chalkboard and stated that she would be addressed as Ms. Osborn, nothing else. She laid out what the class was about and what she expected. She then stated she would be teaching us all about the typewriter, the home row, and then start doing drills to see what our abilities were. Ms. Osborn had a toughness to her, an edge if you will. It was something that captured my attention. I listened to what she had to say and found myself beginning to think that I just might be interested in this class.

As time progressed, Ms. Osborn seemed to sense something about me and decided that I needed to be placed directly in front of her desk, in the very front row. I’d done some drills and showed promise, along with speed on the keyboard. She had kind of a sly smirk when she moved me and stated that she wanted to make sure I was paying attention and getting the directions that she was giving. I’m certain that I came off as uncaring or a bit of a slacker when I first arrived in her class, but that quickly changed. I soon found myself being one of the fastest typists. More importantly, I found that I was enjoying what I was doing. Who would ever think that some punk drug runner would be excited to be typing.

I cruised through her class and did so with good grades. She had kept her eye on my progress and had me stay around after class at the end of the year. She told me about a program that she felt I’d benefit from. A business block of classes that would further my abilities. I hadn’t taken the required business block classes prior to this, but she stated that my typing abilities were good enough that she’d be willing to vouch for me and assist me to get into these block classes. I found myself agreeing to go through the process and get into these classes. She was true to her word and did vouch for me. I was able to get into this block class which furthered my desire for a new way of life.

I think that it’s safe to say that Ms. Osborn came into my life at a key moment. Was this another divine intervention? She became a key reason that I chose a different path going forward. I would go so far as to say that she may have saved my life. I was headed down a road that most certainly would’ve ended in destruction. I didn’t care if I lived or died. To have someone who noticed me, saw me for something more than what I saw in myself was an amazing moment. She spoke to me in a way that I started to believe that I could have a life outside of what I was doing. I began to believe that I could have a future and live past 30 years of age. I now had visions of being something more. This in turn made me more defiant towards those who would hold me back and use me. The power of a teacher, the power of a person taking time out of their own life to lift another person up. I wanted so much to tell her what my real life had been like, to confess all my terrible things, because for some reason, I felt like she’d understand and would reassure me that I’d be alright.

I’ve thought about Ms. Osborn throughout my life. I always wanted to go back and see her to let her know what she meant to me and how she’d made such a difference in my life. All the things that she taught me and told me about life turned out as she stated. She’d told me that my typing abilities would be something that I could use throughout my life and that I was good enough that I’d never want for work. She was right! Typing has served me very well. I sit here now typing these blogs because of her. I’ve not only survived, but thrived in my workplace because of my typing abilities, just as she said I would.

I decided to do more google searches to see if she was still around. I’d looked a couple of times but never really found anything solid. I attempted again recently and found that when she married, she’d hyphenated the two names. This threw off the original search I’d done earlier on. Once I found out this detail, I searched with the hyphenated last name and got a hit! I then “typed” up a letter to Ms. Osborn and sent it off. I explained who I was and that she may not even remember me, but if she was interested, I wanted to meet and let her know just how important of a person she’d been in my life. I will tell you that as of yesterday, I received a card from her and she gave me her number so that we can make a plan to have lunch and chat. I’m more than excited about this and feel that It’s way overdue for me to tell her in person everything that I’ve shared here. She needs to know that her time with me not only changed me but saved me. My road was still tough, and I’ve struggled with the demons from all the years in the underworld, but she gave me the hope, or shall we say “set the fire” that I needed to change.

I’ll report back after I set up our meeting so that I can tell you how everything went. Even if it’s a quick lunch, I’ll find satisfaction in all of it because I was given the opportunity to thank someone who truly deserves to be thanked. This is a moment for me to sit with one of my real-life heroes. Thank you, Ms. Osborn, for caring, and for seeing something in a poor kid from the East Side. I’m forever grateful.

Thank you all so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Mirror Mirror…

Mirror mirror on the wall. I’m betting that takes all of you to a Disney moment in your life – me too. It also makes me look within myself. I touched on the fact a few blogs ago that I have a hard time looking at myself in a mirror. The reflection that I’ve seen over the years doesn’t match up to what I feel inside. It’s as though I’m looking at a face I don’t recognize just looking back at me. Creepy, right? Exactly why I avoid mirrors. What is it that you see when you look into the mirror? Is it simply your face, or is there more? Mirrors and reflections are something that I think about, write about and even have dreams about. There must be something more to it. What secrets are held within this sacred piece of glass? Shall we?

The mirror is normally just a common household item that is used for our vanity purposes. Fixing hair, applying make-up, checking skin, all of the things that humans do. Depending on the lighting, a mirror can give you a different perspective of a room. Some place large mirrors on walls in order to make smaller places look bigger. An illusion of sorts. I look at the mirror as an illusionist as well. I have, in the past, taken a good hard look in the mirror to see what it is that others see. Do they see the reflection as I see it, or do they see a different version?

The mirror has not always been this unpleasant of a thing to me. There was a time when I was good with the person that I was seeing. Probably because I lacked feelings for the world and it was nothing more than my face. The eyes were darker then and carried a heavy weight. It was not until “the night” that everything changed for me. I’d gone to bed as normal and literally woke up the next day with feelings! You could call it a divine intervention (the action by God -or god – of getting involved in a human situation in order to change it.) Being that I’ve never been a very spiritual person, that seemed odd, and given the life that I’d been leading, I struggled even more to make sense of it. If God had taken a moment to come to me in my sleep and change everything about who and what I was, there had to be a reason.

The morning after this all transpired, I took a look in the mirror. I was terrified. Who was this that I was looking at? It was like everything had changed. I felt different, I had empathy, I hurt for the things that I’d been doing and felt the desire to make amends to those that I still could reach. I know you’re thinking, if things were turning for the better, why be terrified? What I saw was not a good person. I still saw rage, anger, deceit, and darkness. It was as though a monster (Zombie) was looking back at me. I jumped back away from the mirror and decided that I had to change the reflection.

I felt off that entire day, and I knew that I still had to “take care of business.” How would I be able to do that now when everything had changed? I couldn’t go through the same things as before with feelings. This could easily end my “career.” I became paranoid that others who surrounded me knew and could feel that I’d changed. My God, if I can’t hide this, I’ll die for sure. How did this happen? I went back to the mirror that evening and looked again. I found myself asking the mirror, what is it that you are showing me? What do I need to do? There was no answer as you may have suspected. There was my face, and those dark eyes staring back at me.

There is much more that went on from this point, but I’m not able to share it. Perhaps one day, but I’d say doubtful. Some things about me just need to remain a mystery. I’ve remained scared to use the mirror for anything more than shaving, and I don’t even do that on a daily basis in order to cut down on the amount of times I look at it. I work out at a gym that is covered with mirrors, but I’ve learned to focus on my body parts and never look at my face. It may seem extreme to most of you, but there are demons in there for me. There may be demons in the mirrors for some of you as well. Look hard and tell me what you see.

I think that the mirror is my own way of reflecting on myself. Even without seeing the physical form, it’s as though I see the spirit. Self evaluation is, or at least can be, extremely hard. We are our own worst critics, but we also harbor secrets. When you look at the mirror, do you see the secrets that are stored away?

This was one that I felt was going to be tough to write and it is. It opens up more of what travels through the mind of a person who has trauma and gives light to those things. It leaves me vulnerable to judgment. Judgment of my own mental stability. I’m alright with that if it gets things out of my head, and gets others to take a look into themselves. I know there are others out there who feel the same way. Some may hate the reflection for physical reasons. The reflection can cause problems for those who suffer from eating disorders, or other disorders such as body dysmorphia (a mental health disorder that leads to extreme distress over your appearance.) So, when I tell you that there can be demons in the reflection, it’s real. Look into the mirror…tell me what you see.

I chose this title based on music yet again. A band from the 80’s – Def Leppard. I’ll add the lyrics below because they too make some sense of what I see when I look in a mirror. The power of the mirror, the all knowing, all seeing reflections. It’s eerie and mysterious. Stop for a minute and gaze into the mirror, tell me what you see.

Until we meet again…

~Robert~

Mirror, mirror
Just watching with your eye of glass
You’re just a fortune wheel
With something that I wanna ask

Mirror, mirror
Got my fate lying in your hands
You’re the fool, you’re the juggler
Hangman and lover,
 you’re not like no other

[Chorus]
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me what you see
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me is it true?
(Take a look into my eyes) Oh, when I look at you
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me is it me?
Is it really me?

[Verse 2]
Mirror, mirror
Gotta know just what you see
My crystal ball
You’re looking so sly and so sleazy

Hello Darkness my old friend…

The Darkness. This is something that I speak of in so many of my blog entries. I’ll go through and break down all the many views of darkness in this one. I have a relationship with darkness that spans the better part of my life. There is something magical in it for me, along with the ugly and cold part. There’s the sadness that some feel from this time of year. Seasonal affective Disorder (SAD) depression associated with late autumn and winter and thought to be caused by a lack of light. I think this will get interesting, so let’s get into it.

My journey in life has been marked with times of “darkness.” I’ve covered much of this in other blogs, and I don’t want to sound like I’m just droning along, so I’ll keep this part shorter. I found myself in coordination with underworld figures that trained me to move about quietly, view everything, and the darkness was truly my friend. I feel a level of comfort in the darkness. Perhaps because I was taught to embrace it? I’m not sure, but I still feel something special towards it. Oddly enough in this current part of my life I enjoy the darkness for different reasons than before. When I walk at the pre-dawn hours, there’s a stillness and calm that touches my soul. I love walking in the dark with nothing more than stars and perhaps some moonlight. Hardly anyone is around and I take ownership of this time. It belongs to me!

My mother suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder and dreaded the time change. I know numerous people that also suffer from this. When she had first told me about this disorder, we had a discussion about it because it was something I couldn’t understand. How could someone not love the darkness? It was so beautiful to me. It brought about serious bouts of depression for her and she felt even worse. She’d be disengaged more during this time and welcomed any form of light to help make her feel better. She even liked having a Christmas tree set up all year round so that she’d have the happiness from the lights to improve how she felt. For those out there that have this, I feel for you. I’d ask that you find something that you can hold onto during the months of less light that can keep you steady. My sister is always telling me to think of 3 good things each day. It’s for a different reason in my case, but I think this can be helpful for those that suffer. Try to find the light in the dark. Look for the positives rather than being stuck in the dark. Move about as much as you can, for as I’ve always blogged about, movement is one of the best medicines for the human body. This is from the Mayo clinic for people that suffer from SADS -Treatment for SAD may include light therapy (phototherapy), psychotherapy and medications. If you need help with this, look into a treatment that fits your life. I’m certainly no doctor, just a concerned blogger that wishes better lives for all.

There is also the darkness that comes with loss. I find that I struggle in the month of November, and especially around the Thanksgiving holiday because this was the time of year that my mother passed away. I continue to try to find new ways to get through the month and celebrate in a more positive way, but I’m just not there yet. I keep myself busy and work during the holiday. If I’m less idle, I seem to do better. I also enjoy being around those that I work with at times when things are the toughest. Crazy, right? There’s something about being in your “pack.” The pack protects you and understands you probably better than most. You spend a good portion of you life at work, so why not make the relationships pleasant. I’ll think of my mother in the most positive way possible this month. I’ve gradually started to erase the sadness of her suffering before leaving this earth. Miss you Mom.

My current homework of sorts is to try to allow darkness that has served me be present at times. See it and understand that it has served me well during my times of pain. While I speak so much about trying to set myself free from it, I also need to understand that it is a part of me. There is no light without darkness. Learning the things that I’ve learned may have been terrible at times, but they also kept me alive. Being able to recognize darkness and be, dare I say, thankful is what I’m working towards right now. Without the darkness, I wouldn’t be the man that I am right now. Flawed yes, but we all are. Yet I’m strong and confident as well, and that comes from this darkness. I fear nothing on this earth and that too is from the darkness. My biggest fear has always been that the darkness would take everything over and I’d become the dark wolf…forever. I’m grateful that somewhere inside of me that glimmer of light, that touch of hope still resides. As long as I can hold that, I think that I can find my way.

The song The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel, then later redone by Disturbed has some very powerful lyrics. I’m certain that most of you have enjoyed this song at some point in time and if not, please pull it up and listen. I find much in my music and it also inspires me to write more. Just the beginning lyrics bring tears to my eyes. “Hello darkness, my old friend-I’ve come to talk with you again.” That’s just amazing stuff right there. Darkness will be my old friend, now and forever. I’ll speak to it whenever I’m out in it doing my walks. I’ll embrace the feelings of calm that it brings me, and also the strength that it’s given me.

I’ll share a scripture here: Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). Even though the Bible speaks of darkness in numerous passages as something less. I believe that there’s something to the darkness and as I’ve stated, you can’t have one without the other. I also believe that I can embrace both, find the balance that I need to carry on in my life.

In my closing I’ve added the lyrics from the Sound of Silence for you all to enjoy and perhaps dissect. Maybe it’ll touch you in a different way, and that’s alright as well. Music is a healing tool, so I’d highly recommend giving both versions a listen. As always, if you’re suffering, reach out and seek assistance to get through whatever it is that harms you. I’ll keep writing because it’s become the best form of therapy for me at this point and time. I’m hopeful that my words speak to at least some of you and make a difference. Being beautifully broken has no shame, at least not in my eyes.

Thank you so much for stopping by and reading my thoughts.

~Robert~

The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence